sirena: (kate; a homunculus!)
I suppose it is worth mentioning for the record that today--right now, in fact--we are getting quite a lot of snow. And I burned my fingers on some steam and have to wear onions on them like band-aids.

I wish Casey Boo were here, or I were in Whiteford, so I could watch her running around in the snow like a crazy thing.
sirena: (kate; a homunculus!)
Owfuck, I almost ripped my toenail off last night doing Cindy Crawford Workout exercises in my living room. The moral of the story is that no matter how carpeted your living room, and no matter how much space you actually have to do weird high kick things, you should always wear your shoes, because you will probably still stub your toe on the sofa right under the nail and make it bleed and slightly wiggly. Nobody wants a wiggly toenail.

This was important enough for me to emerge from my internet-less exile to tell you all. I still have no internet, although I hope for that to change soon. Other things I have to mention, which I will probably get around to this weekend because I'm Home and have internet here:
- Upstate New York
- Monkeys!
- This baby pool/slip 'n slide/jello party I am being subjected to tonight, ugh
- The fact that I have not unpacked a single thing in three months?

CRIPES, a new Platinum Grit!
sirena: (blue beetle; wtf?)
Ugh, a lot of stuff has happened since last time and here it all is.
  1. (This may have happened before the last post, I don't remember.) When J and I went to see Get Smart (which I really enjoyed, actually, even though it was very much Steve Carrell on the screen and not Steve-Carrell-channelling-Don-Adams (but that's okay, I like Steve Carrell)), we parked in a garage in Bethesda. Above the thing that spits out your ticket was an LCD display, which showed the date and time and a short message: The door is open. So weirded out.
  2. Allie has seen Linda since she sent me that weird email, and she is not dead or possessed/eaten/otherwise seized by a demonic house, or replaced by a pod person.
  3. Allie graduated, I went to her party and did not get drunk at all (I succumbed to an abdomen full of carbonation instead). Soon she will get a good job and make much more money than me. (Haha, not jealous. Nope.)
  4. I decided to take Lily's room when she moves out, but as always there are complications and she is dragging her fucking feet getting back to me about it. For fuck's sake, woman, stop being a party girl for five minutes and email me IT IS NEARLY MID-JULY. Also, IT IS NEARLY MID-JULY and you have still not found housing yet. What are you waiting for??
    1. OK, she did just email me (four days later), but is still being a PITA.
  5. I have been playing the shit out of FFX-2 since I paranoidly abandoned it four years ago. Going well so far.
  6. My brother has mono. Hooray!
  7. Anna arranged a big group trip to go white water rafting today, July 6.
    1. Yesterday I:
      1. Got a haircut!
      2. Went to REI and miraculously found Teva sandals in my size to wear on said rafting trip. Also cute flip flops.
      3. Went to Panera for lunch with Mum.
      4. Went to church since we were supposed to leave at 6:30am today, to make the 10am rafting time.
    2. At 8:35 pm I left for Jeremy's house; Bryan and Anna's friend Udaya were going to meet us there this morning and it would be easier for me to just stay there.
    3. At 9:10, 9:15-ish, I was driving down Rte. 108 in Clarksville. Nothing good on the radio--I think I had it switched to a crap remix of "Pocketful of Sunshine" (yes, I had to look it up). I came around a corner to an intersection (Centennial Lane, which means nothing to any of you but it's for my own recollection) and the light just turned yellow. I didn't have enough time to stop so I kept going. There was a car in the oncoming left turn lane, and as I entered the intersection I saw him pull out, assuming he was going to enter the intersection, wait for me to pass, and then turn (which is NOT a traffic violation; if you're in the intersection when the light turns red, you can still go). Instead, he just kept coming and I thought ohJesuspleaselethimstopmakehimstopmakehimstop--but we all know how this ends: with a front-end collision. Little fucker slammed right into me (or vice versa, if he had entered the path of my car).

      I screamed, both airbags deployed (which I don't remember, but sure enough there they were), and when I climbed out the whole car was filled with airbag powder and smelled like burning. I oriented myself and made sure the other car was ok--four people; two guys, a chick, and a younger kid, maybe 10. Dude #1 (driver) comes flying out of the car--"Why'd you do that, miss?! Why'd you do that?!" Um, do what? Drive in a straight line? He was in my face, accusing me of speeding (which I wasn't--I was going 45 at most in a 40 or 45 zone), giving me some bullshit about it being a "stop sign" (not sure if he meant this literally or if he was just spewing nonsense in the heat of the moment (and to which I replied, "No, it's a stop light, and it wasn't red, and you're supposed to yield to me")), telling me I was "way back there!" (it's not a blind curve, you can see it in the Google Map), and then asking me if I was drinking. Because when you're an incompetent driver, everyone else must be drunk. This pisses me off so much in retrospect; I wish I had had the presence of mind to tell that little asscocker off. How dare you.
    4. Anyway, I dug out my phone and called: 911; Jeremy (who was less than 10 minutes away); and my mother.
    5. My horn decided to spontaneously go batshit, and the firefighters had to cut the wires to the battery to get it to shut up.  Which means my New Pornographers CD is still trapped in the CD player.
    6. Jeremy showed up and we emptied out as much of my car as we could in the dark with no lights (see: no battery).
    7. When the cop took my license, etc., I noticed he had the other kid's in his hand, and it was the red, vertically-aligned, under-21 type. I'm hoping this means his insurance skyrockets, and that maybe it was his father's car and maybe he is super grounded for the rest of his life, and also maybe he is castrated. No, actually, I'm okay with the castration.
    8. The cop told me unequivocally that Dude is the at-fault driver, and even if I had been drinking, he would still be at fault, since I had the right of way.
    9. I'm going to guess it's totalled, but we'll see.  If I remember, I'll post some pictures.
    10. My mother, having just been in an accident last month (and who has been going to PT as a result), really wanted me to go to the hospital as a precaution.  When we got there it was 10:42; we waited until almost 1:00 until I heard my name called, which was a feat in itself, because
      1. It was difficult to hear anyone's name being called, much less understand what name was being said (no PA system?  No MVA-style your-number-is-being-called?  Nope, just a dude sticking his head out of a door across a busy, noisy room)
      2. DUDE YOU HAVE A THICK ACCENT.  Before I get anyone up in arms, I'm not being xenophobic.  I like accents a lot.  Just not when I'm trying to tell the difference between "Nichole" and "Michael" and between God knows how many last names.  Also,
      3. IT WAS ALMOST 1:00AM.  And I was exhausted.  He is lucky I wasn't asleep.
    11. I'm getting defensive because when I was taken into triage, in the middle of giving all of my vital information, I was told, "You know, I called your name 40 minutes ago."  ...Which is supposed to help me how?  What's your point, exactly?  I didn't hear you, dude, get over it. 

      After he finished taking my information, he asked me, "How long do you want to wait here?"  I looked at him, sort of dumbfounded, and said, "Uh...not long?  How long is it going to take?"  What the fuck kind of question is this?  He stared at me, looked at Jeremy (who was a total sweetheart and sat with me in the waiting room the whole boring time), and said, "Nevermind, I'll ask him.  How long do you want to wait?"  J was just as confused as I was.  "I dunno, 10 minutes?  Whatever, as long as it takes."  Seriously, what kind of question is this?

      So this guy (triage nurse? I am resisting the urge to call him "Dude" again) leads us into the ER rooms and says, "You can come with me now--unless you'd like to wait longer."  Okay, you know, I get it.  You called me, I didn't come a-runnin', and now you are going to rub it in my face every chance you get.  What a great idiot am I.  You are a cheerless jackass.  I DO NOT care that it is 1:00 in the morning.  This is your job.  You do not have an excuse to be bitchy with me, or to expect that I will be perfectly alert and awake when it's so late and I've just been in an accident and the spike of adrenaline is coming back down and I am lucky I can keep my eyes open.

      I'd really like to complain to someone about him, but I'm not sure of the right way to do it.
    12. Aside from the grumpy doctor (again, your job, be pleasant--even on my worst days in retail, I was always nice to people who were nice to me), the nurses were great.  Nothing broken; just a lot of bruises, some swelling on my left forearm, a cut on my right, and some abrasions from the airbag that are starting to itch a little.
    13. Needless to say, we skipped rafting.  :(
    14. But I do get a pass for 3 days off work.  :)
And now I am super super tired.  If you got this far, God bless you, you are a saint.
sirena: (banksy; i'm nothing if not unrealistic)


Skiing is really hard. I have never done it before. Oh my God I hurt in so many places. I also have the dubious honor of having fallen off the Magic Carpet (don't ask).

But Western Maryland is really awesome? Just sayin'.
sirena: (blue beetle; gladys)
Ahhhhh, okay. The past week has been sort of ridiculous.

On Wednesday, a bunch of us from work went out to lunch (Thai, if you must know). When we got back, I somehow managed to get my finger smashed in the car door. It went like this:



And yes, it shut all the way. I don't know what all was in that door, but when we all came to our senses and opened it, I had two punctures/holes on either side of my finger (the big one was probably almost 3mm across). So gross. We were halfway to the hospital when we realized they'd just splint it and charge me $600 for an x-ray, so we fixed it ourselves via CVS. I don't think it's broken, although it's still swollen a bit. I'm mostly disappointed that the holes filled (swelled?) back in and it doesn't look gross anymore. :(


Thursday Jeremy and I and MY MOTHER went to dinner and I was nervous and wanting to throw up, but I think it went well. She likes him. Yay!

Saturday (some people would call this yesterday) Allie and Ben and I went to DC to, among other things, go to the National Zoo (where it snowed) and the Spy Museum (SOLD OUT! ;_;) and then to go to other museums instead, and get lost. Our drive home looked like this, and if you know anything about DC, you know that (driving there is miserable and) the bad parts are...very, very bad. And I think we drove through maybe all of them.

About 45 minutes prior to this, we thought we were going to have to sleep in the parking garage. That is another long story in itself--but for now, let it be said that there is no terror like thinking you're going to have to spend the night in a hot, stuffy car in a stuffy, poorly designed parking garage in the bowels of DC.

Okay, finger aches from typing. Done now. :3

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